Sharon’s never had a roommate before. In fact, there’s a lot Sharon’s never done before, but Robyn’s about to change all that. Jen Silverman’s The Roommate shatters expectations with its witty and profound portrait of a blossoming intimacy between two women from vastly different backgrounds, as they navigate the complexities of identity, morality, and the promise of reinvention. Being bad never felt so good as it does in this riveting one-act about second acts.
This kind of surface-level engagement is all The Roommate can really withstand. Farrow and LuPone are fun to watch — especially Farrow, whose church-mouse character gradually blossoms with the demurely unhinged glee of a midwestern Mephistopheles — and Silverman has written a good number of funny things for them to say. Their chemistry is spicy and real, and there’s nothing wrong with having a straight-up good time. The trouble is that there’s something weird and sour going on in Silverman’s play that precludes uncomplicated enjoyment of its comedy but never quite touches anything really profound. Beneath its veneer, The Roommate is in an on-again, off-again relationship with its own conscience. It doesn’t know quite what it wants to do or say, or, crucially, exactly how bad it wants to break.
The estimable Mr. O’Brien, who won a well-deserved Lifetime Achievement Tony Award just this year, calibrates the fluctuations in the women’s relationship with subtlety and grace, allowing these two superb actors to navigate the changes in the play’s tone and rhythm at their own pace, on a handsome set by Bob Crowley that hints at both possibility—those rich blue skies—and perhaps vulnerability.
2017 | Williamstown, MA (Regional) |
Original Production at Williamstown Theatre Festival Williamstown, MA (Regional) |
2024 | Broadway |
Original Broadway Production Broadway |
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